Fiamma
by MyLittleViolet
Summary: After the death of his grand-mother, Fran has to move to his last remaining relative in Italy who is the head of a Mafia Family. AU Fran x Bel DISCONTINUED
1. From France to Italy

Hey guys! I'm so excited! This is my second multi-chapter and my first yaoi! I really hope you guys will like it. I know, I should write on my Vongola Academy story but I really wanted to get this up before school starts again.

Rating: I thing T is appropriate for now, maybe I have to change it later.

About the story: Like my first story this one plays in an AU and it turns around the Cosa Nostra in Sicily. Fran is the protagonist. I know that there are some people who hate OCs and I wanted to warn you that there is more than one OC in this story, especially when it comes to Rasiel's and Bel's Family. But I'll try to keep them in the background. It's a yaoi story, which means Boy x Boy. So, I think that's everything you need to know.

Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! Or Sex Academy. I only own the plot and the OCs.

I hope you'll enjoy the story ;) please R & R

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><p><strong>From France to Italy<strong>

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><p>The airport was more than crowded. Fran was sitting on the floor because there weren't any free seats. He leaned with his back against a pillar and flicked through a stupid women's magazine. He stole it from a woman in purple Fuck-me Heels who'd been standing before him in the line at the baggage registration. He wondered how women could actually take shit like this serious, but at least he could kill some time with it. And now he knew for what kind of anti-hero he would go for: the lonely Bad Boy.<p>

"_Your Anti-Hero is the unhappy Bad Boy with neuroses and sex-appeal! Understandable. Nothing is more romantic than to be THE ONE who can tame him and ease his sorrow. But be careful! You need to be grounded enough in order to put up with him…_" Fran mumbled. "What a bullshit!"

Who is stupid enough to take this shit seriously? Fran turned the page and read the next headline: _10 Things men want in bed!_ He groaned and tossed the magazine away. To know what other guys like in bed is really the last thing he wanted to know!

Fran yawned and looked at his watch. His plane got delayed and by now he sat there on the floor for over an hour. His back, butt and legs started to hurt and so he decided to take a little walk and maybe buy or steal another magazine.

The weather was miserably. It'd rained cats and dogs all day long. Fran hoped that the weather in Sicily would be better. Then he would've at least one thing to look forward to. Not that Fran didn't like rain. He actually loved rainy days…as long as he was inside in the warm. But he really hated cold weather. He really hated anything that was cold…well expect ice-cream.

Fran walked into one of the many stores and picked a random paperback from a bookshelf on which was written in large red letters THRILLER. He let it disappear inconspicuously under his coat and walked out of the store again.

He'd already read good ¼ of the book, when a female voice sounded over the loudspeakers:

"_Good afternoon passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for flight 84B to Sicily. We are now inviting those passengers with small children, and any passengers requiring special assistance, to begin boarding at this time. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Regular boarding will begin in approximately ten minutes time. Thank you._"

Fran sighed. Finally.

It was actually the first time Fran traveled by plane and it was much less spectacular than he'd expected. He couldn't really understand why some people were so afraid of flying. If you don't look out of the window, you don't even realize that you are flying. Except during the take-off, because then his ears started to fucking hurt.

Fran had a window seat next to a fat sweating man and a dark haired woman in her fifties. The man beside him was obviously more than nervous about the fact that he was currently located around 10000 meters over the ground.

"Don't worry most pilots are really excellent flyers." Fran told him in his usual monotone voice. "But lousy car drivers. And there sense of direction isn't the best either. Believe me, my father was one. I hope I die in my sleep like he did, not painfully like his passengers did." He saw the man's face turning pale and plugged contently his earphones in.

He turned his music at full volume to shut the outside world completely out, then he opened his new thriller again and plunged back into the story. Fran loved reading. It was like there was a new world hidden in every book. When he was reading, he could completely forget everything that was around him. Somehow, it felt a little like magic to him.

The book was quite interesting too. Must have been a lucky strike. It was about a serial killer who imitated Jack the Ripper.

Fran didn't know how much time had passed when someone tapped on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a stewardess with a large smile on her dark red lips. Her lips moved, but Fran couldn't understand what she was saying because of his music.

He plugged one of his earphones out, "He?"

"I said that I'm distributing the lunch now. Would you mind to put you book away and flap down your table?" the stewardess repeated herself.

"Yes I would. Are you blind or did you simply ignored the fact that I was occupied? Let alone that airline food is just downright disgusting and I'm totally not in the mood to eat anything at the moment. Go bother the other passengers and leave me alone. Oh, and I hope you do know that you look like a clown with that lipstick on." Fran said to her, charming as ever.

The poor stewardess looked more than offended, she was only doing her job after all, but before she could answer Fran had already plugged his earphone back in.

But he only had his peace for a few seconds. Someone pulled lightly on his hair. Irritated Fran looked up. It wasn't the stewardess, she was gone by know. It was just some random girl who was sitting on the seat before him. Apparently she was sitting on her knees on her seat and had turned backwards, her arms folded over the top of her seat back.

Fran plugged his earphones out again. "What is?" His voice was monotone like usual, not showing his annoyance.

The girl smiled amused at him. She seemed to be about his age and he couldn't deny that she was quite pretty. She had a delicious caramel colored skin and giant brown eyes. Her plenteous dark brown hair framed her diamond shaped face. He wasn't sure, but she looked like she wasn't wearing any make-up.

"That just now wasn't very nice" she said amused. "You should be nicer with people."

Fran huffed scornfully. "People aren't nice with me either."

The girl rolled her eyes. "You could make the first step."

"Why should I?"

"Why shouldn't you?"

Fran stared at her for a second, then he said, "Just mind your own business and leave me alone. I had a bad week."

"What happened?"

"None of your business."

The girl sighed. She realized that she wasn't getting anywhere like this. "My name is Gianna Dragone by the way."

She waited for Fran to answer, but when he didn't attempt to say anything she asked, "What's your name?"

"Why should I tell you my name?" he asked.

"I just told you mine."

"I didn't ask for it."

"Oh come on, can't you see that I want to make some small-talk? Don't be so grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy, I just don't want to talk to you" he replied.

"Wrong! If that was truth, you could have just ignored me."

"It is the truth and now sit back down on your seat."

She simply ignored what he said. "Oh come on, just your first name. I can't just call you 'that teal-haired guy'."

"Why not?"

Gianna sighed. "Fine I will leave you alone, but I will give you my phone number. So, if you change your mind you can still call me. We are stuck on the same Island after all."

She wrote her name and a bunch of numbers down on a little piece of paper and handed it to him. Then, she slid back down on her seat and didn't say anything anymore. Fran looked at the elegantly written numbers and decided to throw them away…later. He plugged his earphones back in.

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><p>Fran's aunt was already waiting for him when he left the Catania-Fontanarossa Airport. It wasn't very hard to find the redheaded women in the expensive designer clothes in front of the giant limousine. It looked more than ridiculous. As if she'd mistaken the airport for the red carpet.<p>

M.M. was Fran's mother's 15 years younger sister. Sure, that was quite a big age gap but let's put it like this: Fran's maternal grand-father really liked women.

"About time!" was her greeting for him. "Move your ass and get into the fucking limousine!"

"Don't blame me, stupid old hag. Blame the stupid plane who decided to come over one hour late." Fran said and climbed into the limousine.

"Don't call me old you snotty brad!" M.M. snarled and got in the limousine behind him. "You should thank me! Without me you would sit on the street!"

The limousine drove off.

"We have to hurry; that you arrived late threw over my whole time schedule! First we have to get you some new clothes; you have to look presentable this evening. And you have to learn some manners! You're no longer on your cattle farm in Lozère. Oh, and you really need to get rid of that French accent. The people here won't accept you as a main part of the famiglia if you can't even speak Italian correctly."

"I didn't live on a cattle farm! And my Italian is just fine for someone who's not a native speaker. It's not my fault that I grew up at the arse-end of France!" Fran protested.

"I don't care on what kind of farm you lived!"

"I didn't live on a fucking farm at all!"

"Well, I don't care either way. Just learn some manners! And now shut up until we reached our destination. I want to read." M.M. said.

Fran got his obsession with books from his mother's part of the family; even through his taste in book was slightly different than M.M.s.

The cover of M.M.s book had a black background with a blond woman with long alabaster colored legs on it. In pink letters was _Sex Academy_ written on it and below in smaller letters _Amanda Faulk_.

"Sex Academy? Seriously?" Fran asked.

M.M. didn't even look up, "Didn't I told you to shut up?"

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><p>M.M. had dragged him criss-cross over the Via Etnea, one of the main streets in Catania. The street was framed by many buildings from the 19th century but there were also some baroque buildings from the 17th century. The beautiful buildings and the many boutiques acted like tourists magnets. But Fran didn't really have the time to admire Catania's beauty because M.M. stuffed him into on expensive piece of clothing after another. She probably spent more money during that hour than Fran would normally in a whole year.<p>

It was then when he saw them for the first time. He just wanted to leave one of those boutiques when they walked by. Only one meter away from him. Three boys about his age or slightly older. Two of them looked nearly identical, probably twins. They had both chestnut colored hair in the same cut and perfectly tanned skin. He only got a quick glance at them but he could tell that they were quite good looking. The only thing that distinguished them was there style of clothing. The first one was wearing a blue check shirt over a white T-shirt and Jeans. The other one was wearing a polo shirt, dark green pants, oxford shoes and a pair of those nerd glasses. But the one who caught Frans eye was the third one. Contrary to the two others, his hair was light blond and a good bit longer, it seemed to cover his eyes. He was wearing a violet and black striped sweater, a pair of jeans and knee-high white boots. The tiara on his head reflected the afternoon sun over Sicily.

Fran gazed after them. They hadn't noticed him and simply kept walking. Fran didn't know what it was, but something about these three boys had caught his interest.

M.M. appeared by his side and followed his gaze. "Che, these Cavallini brats." She grabbed Fran's wrist and dragged him with her. "Let's move on. Time is money!"

"Who were they?" Fran asked.

"Belphegor, Gianluca and Andrea Cavallini. Don't worry, you'll get to know them soon enough but if you're smart you stay as far away from them as possible. Believe me that Cavallini Family consists out of a bunch of madmen."


	2. Pumpkin Pie

Thanks so much for your nice reviews, they really cheered me up :D I hope you'll enjoy this chapter

I wanted to answer to cocoamilo's review right away: Bel and Jil are still twin brothers in this story, Jil just hasn't appeared yet. The brown haired guys are their cousins. It's explained in this chapter. I hope you won't get too confused with Bel's Family.

Disclaimer: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn! If I did, Jil would be still alive.

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><p><strong>Pumpkin Pie<strong>

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><p>After their little shopping trip, they walked back to the limousine.<p>

M.M. looked at her watch, "Shit, we have to hurry! We're awaited in a few hours in the Vongola Palazzo and I don't even know what to wear yet!"

"What are we doing in the Vongola Palazzo?" Fran asked.

"Idiot, we're the 31. October tonight! The Vongola Famiglia is giving a Halloween Party tonight. All the Famiglie delle fiamme have to attend."

Fran raised an eyebrow. "What on earth are the Famiglie delle fiamme?"

"Well, you know that our Family, the Marchesini Famiglia, is a part of the Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian Mafia. Our family and some of the other families came to an agreement: no murder or kidnapping among us, except someone infringed the Omertà. Additionally the Famiglie delle fiamme should support each other in business matters. Famiglie delle fiamme is just the name they gave to that agreement, it means Families of the flames."

"So all the Famiglie delle fiamme will attend to that Halloween Party?"

"Yes. Well it's not actually a party, more like a business dinner. The only thing that has to do with Halloween is the pumpkin pie."

"Sounds boring." Fran remarked.

"It is. Being in the Mafia is not as interesting as it looks like in all those films. Get used to it."

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><p>They left Catania over the SS114 direction north. Fran looked out of the window while M.M. was reading her book. He would like to read too, but he got always sick when he read in the car. Through the window he could see the Etna coming closer. With the time his eyelids grew very heavy. He hadn't slept well the past few day and it didn't took him long to fall asleep.<p>

"Wake up brat!" Fran was rudely awakened.

Fran blinked dozily and rubbed his eyes. "Where are we?"

"In your new home. This is Palazzo Marchesini!" M.M. announced.

Fran got out of the limousine and took a look around. The Palazzo Marchesini was…impressive. It was built of volcanic lava stone in the style of the Sicilian Baroque, probably during the 17th century. The limousine was parked in the colonnaded courtyard of the palazzo. An archway in the façade led back to the street. An intricate double staircase led to the principal entrance on the first floor. The blocks of ashlar in the rustication were decorated with shells. All in all, the Palazzo Marchesini stood in a huge contrast to his grand-mothers small house in France with the large vegetable garden where he'd lived until now. Yes, Fran was more than impressed but that didn't meant that he would show it. He managed to keep in face blank like always, not that M.M. would care much either way.

"The servants will carry your baggage and shopping bags to your room, just follow them. There is a private bathroom linked to your room. Take a shower and get in one of the suits we bought earlier. And don't dawdle! We have to leave in one hour!" M.M. said.

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><p>Fran's room was on the second floor. The inside of the palazzo looked rather modern, so even if the building was built in the 17th century, it must have been renovated only a short while ago. Fran wondered if M.M. lived in this huge thing alone.<p>

This room was much bigger than his former and for the first time in his live Fran had his own bathroom. The room was furnished with a large wooden wardrobe and a standing mirror beside it, a wooden desk, a king-sized bed with blue silk bedding and some paintings on the walls. Oh and he had a balcony with an intricate wrought iron balustrade and view of the Etna. The Etna seemed to be father away and the flora had changed from meadows and bushes to oaks, cedars and beech trees. Additionally, it seemed like the Palazzo was located quite high up in the mountains. Fran wondered how much time had passed since he fell asleep in the limousine.

Well, it didn't really matter. He turned around and walked to the second door in his new room that led to his new bathroom. Everything was so new. It felt strange. As if he wasn't supposed to be here. Somehow he wished to be back in France. How ironic. When he'd been in France he'd always wished to get out of there.

He found out that there was a shower as well as a claw foot bathtub in his new bathroom. Normally he would prefer to take a bath but today he decided for the shower since it would go faster.

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><p>One hour later, Fran found himself in the courtyard again. He was wearing his new suit. Of course it fit perfectly but nevertheless he felt ridiculous in it. It was the first time he was wearing one. Back in France he'd always thought of people in suits as philistines. At least M.M. didn't insist on him wearing a tie. She herself was wearing a strapless yellow sheath dress, made out of silk and lots of rhinestones.<p>

This time it wasn't a black limousine but a helicopter that waited for them.

"A helicopter?" Fran asked astonished.

M.M. nodded. "Sure. It's faster than a car and it makes it harder for the police to track us. I hope you have no aviatophobia." She said and climbed onto the seat next to the pilot.

Fran rolled his eyes and climbed on the seat behind her. After he'd fastened his seatbelts and put his headphones on, the pilot started the machine and they took off. Fran saw how the Palazzo Marchesini got smaller and smaller underneath them. It was the only building in the proximity and completely surrounded by forest.

"The mountains you see under us are the Monti Nebrodi or Munti Nèbbrudi like they say here in Sicilian, a mountain range that runs along the north east of Sicily. Together with the Madonie and the Monti Peloritani, they form the Sicilian Apennines. Our destination, the Palazzo Vongola, lies in the Peloritani or Piluritani in Sicilian. Apropos Sicilian, as soon as you mastered your Italian correctly, you should learn Sicilian too." Fran heard M.M.s voice over his headphones.

He rolled his eyes, "My Italian is correct, I only have a slight accent!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'll get you a private teacher who can teach you everything that's important to be a leader in the mafia. By the way, how's your English?"

"Good, I was at the top of the class" Fran answered.

"That's not really an achievement. The average ability of French people to speak foreign languages is quite low."

"Could you stop goofing on France? It's not like you Italian do any better in languages." Fran protested. "And my English is good!"

"We'll see." M.M. said. "What about other languages?"

"My Spanish is pretty good too."

"Is that everything?"

"Ehm, yeah. Those are 4 languages. What do you want more?"

"No German, Chinese, Portuguese or Russian?" M.M. asked.

"No…"

"Fran, our Family makes deals on an international base. You have to be able to understand your business partners!"

"I know that! But just how many more languages you want me to learn? And of what kind of deals are you talking?" Fran asked.

"As many as possible of course! And about the deals…" M.M. paused. "Well, you know that we're part of the Mafia. Our deals aren't always legal but we try to stay at the borderline between legal and illegal. We're not like those mafia famiglies in films who make their money with gambling, prostitution and drug smuggling. For example is green economy quite emerging at the moment and it turned out to be quite profitable. We built wind turbines and solar implants and collect in return a considerable amount of EU-subsidies. But the thing is that all those wind turbines and solar implants don't work probably or at all."

Fran knew that his aunt was lying or at least not telling everything. He surly didn't need to learn more than four languages just to build some stupid wind turbines but he decided not to probe her anymore. He'll find out about it sooner or later anyway.

"The headquarters of the Famiglie delle fiamme consists of 8 famiglie which are more or less scattered all over Sicily: The Vongola Famiglia, the Varia Famiglia, the Cavallini Famiglia, the Gesso Famiglia, the Giglio Nero Famiglia, the Simon Famiglia, the Chiavrone Famiglia and our, the Marchesini Famiglia. On special occasions, like Christmas, Eastern, Halloween and so on, one of the Famiglie has to throw a party where all the other Famiglie have to attend. It goes by turns." M.M. changed the subject. "Well, not all the members of every Famiglia have to attend. Actually only the capi Famiglia, the bosses of the family, have to attend but they normally come in company."

"Wait, does that mean you're the capo Famiglia of the Marchesini Famiglia?" Fran asked.

"Yes of course. Fran, after the death of my father four years ago, you and I are the last heirs of the Marchesini bloodline. And inside of the Famiglie delle fiamme it's even more important that the business stays in the hands of the family."

Fran frowned, "Why?"

"You will understand it when you've grown-up."

"I'm 16! I'm not a child anymore." Fran protested.

"I know that but you're still too young to understand the full complexity of the Cosa Nostra and the Famiglie delle fiamme."

"That's just dumb. I understand more of it than most adults!"

"Shut up Fran! We're almost there!"

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><p>The Palazzo Vongola looked completely different from the Palazzo Marchesini. First of all, it was at least three or four times bigger.<p>

"The Palazzo Vongola is the oldest Palazzo in the hands of the Cosa Nostra. It was built during the Norman domination in the 12th century. The Vongola Famiglia lives in it for many generations. Long before the Cosa Nostra was formed." M.M. explained after she got out of the helicopter.

They were received by a servant who bowed low to them. "Welcome in the Palazzo Vongola, Signorina Marchesini, Signore Marchesini. If you'd like to follow me."

M.M. flashed a smile at the servant. "Thank you Antonio."

To Fran she said, "This is Antonio, the Butler of the Vongola Famiglia. He's the one who keeps things ticking over."

Antonio was a tall man with bronzed skin and graying hair. Probably in his mid or late forties. He guided them into some kind of ballroom. The ceiling was supported by columns and pointed arches. On the sides of the room stood some long tables covered by black and orange table cloths and filled with hot and cold buffet. Servants walked through the room carrying tablets with Prosecco. The room was pretty much filled with people chatting with each other. Fran had expected much less people. M.M. had said that the capi Famiglia of the 8 Famiglie delle fiamme plus some companie would attend; therefore Fran had expected between 16 and 30 people. But there were sure as hell more than 30 people in that room.

A man with golden blond hair in his mid to end twenties came in their direction. He was tall and quite handsome, only his hair looked kind of weird. It stuck out in all directions like it was immune against gravity.

"M.M.! It's a pleasure that you could come!" The blond embraced M.M. and gave her pecks on both her cheeks.

M.M. flashed a bright smile at him. "Never ever would I miss one of your fabulous parties, Giotto! This is my nephew Fran by the way."

The blond turned his attention to Fran. "Ah, so you're Luana's son."

"You knew my mother?" Fran asked.

"Oh, yes! Everyone here knows Luana Marchesini and let me tell you one thing: You really look like a male version of her, only the hair color is wrong." The blond with a beaming smile on his lips.

"Thanks" Fran mumbled.

"Fran, why don't you take a look around and let Giotto and me talk about wind turbines." M.M. suggested.

Fran nodded and walked in the direction of the large buffet. He didn't really feel like eating, but he hadn't eaten anything since this morning. He started to feel shaky which meant that he needed some sugar. Maybe some of that pumpkin pie M.M. talked about. But he didn't come that far.

"Believe me, that pie is highly overrated" a male voice said from behind him.

Fran looked over his shoulder and saw one of the brown-haired boys he'd seen this afternoon in Catania.

"I would recommend the cupcakes, they're much better. Especially the ones with chocolate."

Fran ignored the guy and loaded the smallest piece of the pumpkin pie on his plate. He didn't really care about how it tasted, he just wanted to fill his stomach with something.

"Aren't you one of these Cavallini guys? Andrea, Gianluca or Belphegor?" Fran asked.

"Nope, but Andrea and Gianluca are my brothers and Belphegor is one of my cousins. My name is Daniele."

"Wait a minute, but you were this afternoon in Catania, weren't you?" Fran asked confused. He was pretty sure that M.M. had said Belphegor, Gianluca and Andrea. She hadn't said anything about a Daniele.

Daniele laughed. "Oh I see. You've already met my brothers. There is a simple explanation: We're identical triplets."

"Identical triplets? Isn't that pretty rare?"

"Oh yes, it occurs only once in every 500,000 births…or at least that's what Wikipedia says. The funny thing is that our cousins are identical twins. So you could say that we're a very unusual family." Daniele explained while grabbing at least half a dozen chocolate cupcakes. "Let's go to the library. Normally everyone is here in the ballroom so we should be undisturbed there. I want to smoke but I don't want to go outside."

Fran nodded. He really didn't like to be around a lot of people, so Danieles suggestion sounded quite attractive. He guided Fran out of the ballroom, down a hallway and through a big double door. The library of the Vongola palazzo was lying in utter darkness. Daniele closed the door behind them and fiddled a lighter out of his pocked. The lighter afforded barley enough light to guide them through the darkness. Daniele walked behind one of the many bookshelves, so they wouldn't been seen immediately if someone would come in nonetheless. He let himself slide down on the ground and Fran did the same thing. The light went out and they were surrounded by darkness and silence. Fran sighed and started to pick around in his pumpkin pie. This was much better than in the crowded ballroom. It was only now that he realized that he hadn't been alone at all today and Fran was the type of person who needed quite some time for himself. Once again, he wished to be back in France. He'd never really liked it there, but at least he'd been able to do what he wanted.

"You haven't told me your name yet." Daniele said.

"Fran Marchesini."

"Oh, so you're Luana's son." Daniele said.

"That's exactly the same thing that Giotto said. Looks like he didn't lie when he told me that everyone knows my mother."

Daniele snorted, "See, this is why I had these Vongola guys. They're so put-on! They always seem to be so nice and kindhearted but in reality, they're assholes. They lie into your face with a big warm smile."

"What do mean?"

"Well, Giotto didn't directly lie this time. It's true that everyone knows you're mother. They know and passionately hate her."

Fran frowned. He'd been too young when she died to really remember her. But if he'd got his personality from her, she'd probably been a bitch. Through, for so many people to hate her… "Why?"

"In the eyes of the other families, your mother had betrayed the Cosa Nostra when she'd chosen your father, some random French guy, over her family and ran away with him. She'd abandoned her family, something that can't be forgiven. And you are her son. The outcome of a liaison they'd never approved of. I hardy doubt that anyone inside of the Cosa Nostra will ever accept you."

Fran shrugged and pierced a little piece of the pie with his fork and put it in his mouth. It wasn't as bad as Daniele had said. "I can deal with people not liking me."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. You can't compare the mafia to some bullies. If anything ever happens, please call me. Me or Rasiel."

"You make it sound as if I'm totally incapable of taking care of myself!" Fran protested. "And who's that Rasiel guy?"

"He's Bel's twin brother. You haven't seen him yet, but he looks exactly like Bel, only with longer hair. He, you and I, we three, are pretty much in the same situation, so we have to stick together." Daniele said.

"What do you mean with 'the same situation'?" Fran asked and put another fork of his pumpkin pie into his mouth.

Daniele hesitated. Fran heart him fumbling around, but he couldn't point out what Daniele was doing. "To explain that would take us too far afield now. I'll explain it to you another time."

Daniele lightened his lighter again and lighted something that looked rather like a joint than a cigarette. He took a deep drag and sighted.

"Want some?" he asked Fran.

"No, that's not what I want." Fran said.

"So, what do you want?"

"That's a very good question" Fran put his plate with the pumpkin pie down and stood up from the ground, "I'm heading back. You can have the remaining pie."

"Whatever" Daniele said and took another drag.

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><p>Fran closed the door to the library behind him and walked slowly back towards the ballroom. Really slowly. The last thing he wanted was being between all those Janus-faced Mafiosi again. But He didn't really know where else he could go. Maybe he could take a walk outside?<p>

But before he could seriously consider that idea, two boys came in his direction. One of them had brown hair, the other one was blond. It didn't took Fran long to recognize them. Belphegor and…ehm, Andrea or Gianluca without his glasses.

"Shishi, what do we have here?"

Fran stopped and raised his eyebrow. What a weird snicker.

"Did you fell in a paint pot, or what happened to your hair?" the blond teased him.

"Well, at least I don't have a pot haircut with ridiculous long bangs." Fran said. "And what's with that tiara? Aren't you a little too old to play princess?"

"Tch, you-" Belphegor started but the chestnut haired guy cut him short.

"Oh, you must be Fran Marchesini, M.M.s nephew! I've already heard of your quite unusual hair color and these…marks underneath your eyes. May I introduce myself? My name is Gianluca Cavallini and this is my cousin Belphegor Cavallini." He said in an overly cheerful manner.

Fran tilted his head to the side, "What happened to your horn-rims?"

To Fran's surprise and disappointment Gianluca didn't seem to be startled at all about the fact that some random guy he'd never seen before knew about his horn-rims. "My mother wouldn't like it if I wore them to a public event like this one."

Fran shrugged. "Whatever. If you're searching for your pothead of a triplet brother, he's in the library."

Gianluca rolled his eyes, "Great, Mom and uncle Alessandro are so going to go bananas when they find out!"

Belphegor snorted, "What do you care. It's that idiot's own fault if he can't even keep his hands off his precious drugs for one evening."

"I know, you're right, but if he keeps doing this, he'll hurt the reputation of the whole family!" Gianluca pointed at Fran, "Look, he already thinks lowly of our family and he's a Marchesini!"

"Oh no, I would've also thought lowly you if I hadn't met Daniele before." Fran gainsaid, but Gianluca completely ignored him.

"We have to whitewash our reputation! Fran, we want to make a sailing trip this Sunday on Bel's yacht. Please come with us!"

"Why are you inviting him? He said I had a pot haircut!" Belphegor protested.

"Bel, I love you, but you really do have a pot haircut." Gianluca said.

"That's it! I won't play Halo with you tonight!" Belphegor snarled.

"Noooooo!" Gianluca clasped theatrically on the blonde's arm. "Did I mention that I love pot haircuts? It's my favorite haircut!"

Bel sniggered while Fran rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Why do you want me to come with you? So you can put me cement shoes on and throw me into the sea?"

"No, we would never do something like that!" Gianluca said, still clinging to Belphegor's arm.

"Yeah, that would be too much effort" Belphegor added with a chuckle.

"We'll be waiting for you at 6 p.m. with a helicopter on the road that leads to the Palazzo Marchesini, but we won't be visible from the Palazzo. Your aunt wouldn't approve of this, so you'll have to sneak out. I really hope you'll come. Oh, and bring along your swimming things." Gianluca said with a bright smile to Fran, and then he tugged at Belphegor's sleeve. "Let's go look after Daniele now."

Belphegor groaned. "Can't we just let him be?"

"Nope."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading :D R &amp; R<strong>


	3. The Fall of the House of Marchesini

OMG, it's been so long since my last update... I'm really sorry guys, don't know what happened :( I was kinda stuck... I think I had some kind of writers block...

The part on the yacht (which will be in the next chapter) is still troubling me a bit, but I think I'll manage to get it up this or next week, I already got around 2000 words for the next chapter.

Well, I hope that you'll enjoy this chapter anyways. I already got around a thousand words for the next chapter. I won't make any promises but I think it won't take me too long to update again...

Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to there rightful owners.

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><p><strong>The Fall of the House of Marchesini<strong>

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><p>Darkness and an oppressive silence were surrounding Fran. He was floating. As if he was trapped deep inside of cold black waters. The cold was piercing through his body, nibbling on his limps, making them numb.<p>

"Fraaaan! Fraaaan!" The whisper of a woman's voice sounded in Fran's ears.

It was _that_ voice again. He knew that voice. He knew the women the voice belonged to. But he couldn't remember her. No matter how hard he tried.

"Fraaaan! Fraaaan!" The voice got louder every time.

A person emerged out of the darkness. The person was wearing a long black coat with a hood that covered his eyes, making it impossible to distinguish his gender. Two purple up-side-down triangles were marking his cheeks, similar to Fran's. A slender hand, covered by snow white skin, was reaching out to Fran. The persons lips were moving but Fran couldn't hear the words. The woman's voice was too loud.

"Fraaaan! Fraaaan!"

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><p>A young Maid woke Fran the next morning at 7 o'clock up, which was waaaaay too early. He'd barley gotten 5 hours of sleep! And he'd had <em>that<em> dream again! His mood was accordingly bad. And Fran was someone with whom you don't even get along easily if he's in a good mood and if he's in a bad mood he becomes just downright obnoxious. And since the poor maid was the only other human being in the room, he let it all out on her until she ran crying out of the room but not before she told him that his aunt awaited him at 8 o'clock for breakfast.

After the maid had left, he rolled himself out of the bed and groaned when he tried to stand up from the floor. First his vision when black and his head started to spin. He had to support himself on his bedside table so he wouldn't keel over. It took only a few seconds for the dizziness to disappear. This wasn't something unusual for him. He knew that his blood pressure was a little lower than normal, he should've known better than to stand up that quickly. The stupid thing was just that as soon as the dizziness was gone, the headache began. And it was a bad headache.

First he stumbled, still half asleep, into the bathroom and gulped down a Paracetamol. After that he drew himself a bath and went back into his room to find some clothes for today.

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><p>M.M. was already waiting for him in the large dining room. A long glass table, covered with a yellow table cloth and an orange vase with sunflowers in the middle, filled most of the room. The whole room was decorated in warm and sunny colors. Too sunny for Fran's taste. M.M. was sitting at the bottom end of the table, to her left sat a young girl who was probably between 12 and 14 years old. She had a pale skin and short purple hair, which made her head look like a pineapple. Her left eye was really large and made her look like a puppy dog. A puppy pineapple dog. Her right eye was covered by an eye-patch. She was wearing a dark green dress.<p>

"You're late. You have to learn to be on time!" was M.M.s greeting for him.

Fran simply ignored her comment and sat down to her right. "Who's she?" he pointed at the vis-à-vis of him.

"This is Chrome. She's here because her brother pays us a lot of money to keep her safe and alive." M.M. answered.

"Chrome? That's a weird name."

"I've hear weirder." M.M. said. "And it's not her real name anyway."

"What's her real name?" Fran asked. He noticed that he and M.M. were talking about the girl as if she wasn't present. But she didn't seem to mind. She was simply staring down at her plate the whole time. What a weird girl.

"I don't know. I don't even know her brother's real name. But I don't really care; all that counts is the money."

"Okay…well maybe she can show me around a little."

"Chrome is not allowed to leave the palazzo Marchesini. Her existence can't be known to anyone who can't be trusted, which is everyone who's not living in this palazzo." M.M. stated.

"How annoying. Well then, maybe she can show me around inside of the palazzo."

"That's fine. But your private lessons start today. Professore Monticelli awaits you in the library once you've finished your breakfast. You can hang out with Chrome after you studied." M.M. told him.

Fran rolled his eyes; he was absolutely NOT in the mood to study anything today.

"Do you want caffè, milk or some hot chocolate, signore?" a young maid asked him.

Fran raised an eyebrow at her chin length pink hair. "Nice hair, looks like bubble gum." He said sarcastically.

The maid answered him perfectly polite without even batting an eye, "It's not like you're in the position to talk, signore."

Fran snorted. "At least I don't look like a character from Lazy Town."

"That's enough Fran!" M.M. rebuked him. "It's about time that you learn some manners!" She turned towards the maid, "Just bring him some milk, Rita."

"What am I? A baby? I want coffee!" Fran snarled.

"Right away, signore." The maid said before leaving.

M.M. glared angrily at him, "Just who do you think you are? You'll shame me if you behave like this in front of the other families!"

"Don't worry, a cheap old hag like you doesn't need me to shame herself."

"You better learn to watch your mouth brat or you won't survive very long here!" M.M. hissed at him.

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Fran asked unfazed.

"No, a warning."

Rita reentered the room balancing gracefully a tray with a cup of coffee on it on her right hand.

"Your caffè, signore." She said before putting the cup down on the table. "Can I bring you anything else?"

"No thanks, Rita. We're fine." M.M. said.

The maid bowed lightly and left the room.

M.M. turned her attention back to the food. Chrome was sipping on her glass of milk. It occurred to Fran that she hadn't said a word the whole time.

Fran took a sip from his coffee and grimaced out of two reasons. First, he'd burned his tongue and second, the coffee tasted awfully bitter. "Ugh! This tastes like espresso! I wanted coffee!"

M.M. rolled her eyes. "Idiot! Don't you know that the Italian caffè is espresso?"

Fran glared at her, "You could have told me!"

"How should I've known that you were this dump? Just put some sugar in it." M.M. said while taking a sip of her own cup.

Fran was fuming but did what she said and finally turned his attention to the food. The Italian breakfast was, similar to the French breakfast, quiet Spartan. He had the choice between Biscotti (twice-baked biscuits) and Fette biscottate (cookie-like hard bread). There was also some butter, a jar with honey and three jars with different jams.

In the end, Fran ate two Biscotti and even managed to down the espresso.

"Chrome, show Fran the way to the library." M.M. ordered.

Chrome nodded and stood up from her chair. "Please follow me." She said with a thin voice.

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><p>Professore Monticelli was probably in his sixties but looked like he was at least three hundred. He reminded Fran of an old turtle and he had the invincible power to bore people to death. It didn't even take 10 minutes until Fran's brain had shut down. His headache was coming back and he had to fight against to urge to fall asleep. After what felt like days, a faint knock on the door finally put him out of his misery.<p>

The door opened and Chrome stepped in. "I'm sorry for interrupting Professore Monticelli but M.M. wishes for Fran to come to the dining room."

"Sure, my dear" The Professore said and dismissed Fran.

This time the glass table was filled with cannoli, arancini (fried rice balls coated breadcrumbs), cartucciate (baked bread bun filled with tomato, ham and mozzarella), iris (deep fried chocolate pastry) and many cipollini (puff pastry filled with tomato sauce, ham, mozzarella and onion) for the second breakfast. And this time, Fran even had the good sense to command his coffee with a lot of milk.

"Doesn't it fit your taste?" M.M. asked after Fran had stopped eating only a half cipollina.

"No, I'm just not hungry. We've eaten for breakfast only a few hours ago." Fran answered.

M.M. raised an eyebrow but didn't elaborate on it. "Anyway, I wanted to inform you that I'll fly this evening in the Ukraine and probably won't return until Sunday. For business reasons."

"What kind of business?" Fran asked.

"_That_ is not your business."

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><p>The rest of Fran's second day could only be described as hell. After two more hours of Monticelli boredom and an ass kicking lunch consisting out of Antipasti, two courses, a side dish and two motherfucking desserts, which M.M. more or less successfully shoved down his throat, Fran felt like puking for the rest of the day. And after a much too short siesta, Professore Monticelli decided to torture him again. But since his lunch apparently refused to get digested, he left out dinner. The rest of the day he spent with Chrome playing chess. Which was also boring because he won all the time.<p>

To make it short: He was really glad when he could finally return to his room. If every day was going to be like this, he would seriously consider killing himself. Or better, killing everyone else in this godforsaken house.

It was then when he noticed a small piece of paper on the floor beside his bed. He picked it up and unfolded it. _Gianna Dragone_ followed by a bunch of numbers was written on it. Oh yes, that was the annoying girl from the plane. Fran had nearly forgotten about her. The piece of paper must have fallen out of his pocket. Initially, he'd intended to throw it away but after this day…it would be good to get a bit out of this house and she couldn't be _that_ annoying. After thinking about it for a while, he finally decided to call her. Desperate times call for desperate matters.

* * *

><p>Gianluca was just reading <em>The Fall of the house of Usher<em> when he felt something cold and sharp against his throat.

"What is it, Bel?"

"Ushishishi. Explanation please."

Gianluca didn't answer, he simply continued on reading.

_"Not hear it? - Yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long - long - long - many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it - yet I dared not - oh, pity me, miserable wretch that I am! - I dared not - I dared not speak!_

The sharp knife broke the thin skin on his throat.

_We have put her living in the tomb!_

"You know I hate it when I'm ignored. Ushishishi."

"And you know I hate it when I'm disturbed while reading" Gianluca answered, not taking this eyes from the lines in the book. "If you want to know why I invited that Marchesini guy, mother ordered me to."

"And your following that whores orders?" Bel sounded angry.

Gianluca sighed and finally put the book down. He touched Bel's hand, which was holding the knife, lightly. "Why not? It's not like hanging out with the Marchesini boy could do any harm."

"I don't like this."

"There is no need to worry, Bel. You know that I'll always be on your side, no matter what happens."

"The time will come when we have to kill your mother and my father. Are you sure you're ready to choose me over them?"

"Of course I am." Gianluca answered without hesitation. "I can't wait to see you as capo of the Cavallini famiglia."

Belphegor smiled and put the knife down. "Good." Gianluca felt him nuzzling against his throat. His warm and moist tongue licked slowly over the cut his knife has caused.

Gianluca chuckled. "You're so clingy, Bel."

Belphegor growled. "I'm not! And it's not as if you're in the position to talk."

He withdrew himself and the sound of his steps on the marble floor indicated that he'd left the room.

Gianluca sighed and picked his book up again.

_I now tell you that I heard her first feeble movements in the hollow coffin. I heard them - many, many days ago - yet I dared not - I dared not speak!_

For some reason, he was looking forward to that yacht trip.

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><p>Gianna had agreed to meet Fran on Saturday. It was a bit complicated to meet with her since the Palazzo Marchesini was pretty much located in the middle of nowhere. And since he didn't have a driving license yet, he had to rely on M.M.s personal chauffeur. Luckily she'd already left for the Ukraine.<p>

Gianna had been more than impressed when she saw him. A simple way how you can win a woman's heart: pick her up in a limousine. The only problem in this case was that he wasn't really interested in winning her heart.

Gianna was with her long wavy dark hair and her sun-kissed complexion what you could describe as the typical Sicilian beauty. She was really pretty, but there was nothing extraordinary about her. A bit too plain for his taste.

Furthermore, she seemed to have logorrhea. Seriously, just how can a human being talk so much nonsense without making a pause? Basically she talked the whole time about some random people he didn't know. This really excluded her from being a potential girlfriend but it was at least better than Chrome, who barely got a word out. Sure, Chrome was really cute and all but he just couldn't get along with people who can't even talk back once in a while.

Most of the day, Gianna dragged him from one boutique into the next. It was only after the third or fourth shop that he realized that for the first time of his live he needn't to worry about money. Until less than a week ago he'd had nothing and now he was walking around with a platinum credit card. That was quite a change and he hadn't adapted to it yet. It was not as if his grand-mother had been particularly poor. Her pension had just been enough to scrape by. But he just couldn't understand why he had to live for all this years in that small house with his grandmother, when his aunt here in Italy was practically swimming in money.

Stupid mother who thought she had to elope with some random guy! Stupid no good father! Stupid stubborn grandmother who hated the mafia! They all made his live miserable by their stupidity!

M.M. was also stupid, but at least she was also riche.

One minute…Stupidity wasn't inheritable, was it?

"How do I look?" Gianna asked him while she stepped out of the changing cubicle, jolting himout of his thoughts.

"The dress is nice and the color red really fits you, but don't you think you need at least one size larger? You look really fat in this." Fran answered her honestly.

Gianna looked offended at him and her face grew as red as her dress. She rushed back into the changing cubicle.

"Did I say something wrong?"

After that Gianna refused to try on any other clothes on but therefore she bought 4 new pairs of shoes. At the end of the day, Fran treated her to a panino and a cappuccino.

"When we were in the plane, I heard that you said your father was a pilot…" Gianna started. Apparently, she'd realized that she was only talking about herself.

"Oh, that was a lie. But the thing that he's dead was true" Fran answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"No need to. I can even remember him." Fran said indifferent.

"And what about your mother?"

Fran shrugged. "She died too."

Gianna looked at him with eyes filled with pity. He didn't like that at all. "But that's so awful! I wouldn't know what to do if my parents died! I don't even want to imagine it!"

"Like I said, I can't even remember them. So please, don't make a fuss now."

"How did that happen?" Gianna asked.

"Well, when my mother got pregnant she moved with my father to France. When my maternal grandfather died, I was around two years old back then, they left me behind at my paternal grandmother's house and traveled to Italy to get my mother's part of the inheritance. But they never arrived there. Their plane had crashed midway." Fran explained.

"Oh my, how awful!"

Fran shrugged again, "What bothers me the most is that, until now, I haven't even seen one cent of that inheritance."

"How can you say something like that? Family is way more important than money!" Gianna claimed.

"Not for me. I don't care about other people."

"That's so heartless!"

Fran raised an eyebrow, which didn't happen often. Normally his face was just blank. "Who needs a heart? In the end, it's every man for himself. Remember this: nobody will look after you, so there's no need to look after others."

"Are you speaking from experience?" Gianna asked.

"I'll drive you home, let's go." Fran said and stood up from the chair.

"He! Don't just change the subject! Answer me!" Gianna protested.

But Fran simply pretended as if he hadn't heard her and continued on walking.

Gianna sighed and gave up. "Wait for me!"

* * *

><p>Chrome placed a cup on the long table inside the library.<p>

"Brother said that milk with honey is good if you can't sleep." She said with her small voice.

Fran looked up from his book, he hadn't heard her coming.

"Do you have bad dreams, Fran?" She asked.

"That's none of your business." He said coldly.

"Oh…I'm sorry." A faint smile hushed over her lips. "I'll go now."

She walked back towards the entrance of the library but paused when Fran called her name. "Yes Fran?"

"Why are you still awake? It's past midnight." Fran asked.

"Since Signorina M.M. isn't here I don't have to get up so early and I love to look at the moon. It's so beautiful." Chrome answered.

Fran nodded and Chrome took it as a sign that she should leave. He waited until she was gone before he reached for the cup. He put it to his lips and took a sip of the warm milk before he turned his attention back to his book, _the_ _Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe_. Right now, he was reading the _The Fall of the house of Usher._ Reading always helped him to distract himself from something unpleasant.

Chrome had been right. He'd had that nightmare again. That person with the black cloak was haunting him again… Just who on earth was that person? Why was he dreaming of that person all the time and why was he afterwards always all churned up inside? And what was up with that familiar voice?

…_that heavy and horrible beating of her heart…_

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><p><strong>R &amp; R<strong>

**You're reviews make me work harder and faster ;)**


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